


Eager Eyes

by hanthelibrarian



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Mr. Brightside AU, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier Has Self-Esteem Issues, Song: Mr. Brightside (The Killers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24424033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanthelibrarian/pseuds/hanthelibrarian
Summary: Based on Mr. Brightside by The KillersRichie meets Eddie at a bar and they hit it off. That is until Bev shows up and Richie thinks he's unknowingly made himself into "The Other Man."
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 11
Kudos: 113





	Eager Eyes

The bar is dark, crowded, smelling like alcohol, sweat, and some asshole’s Axe body spray and Richie keeps bumping into the people around him without really being able to see them. He elbows his way to stand right at the bar, finally able to order a drink despite having been in the shithole for half an hour. He’s about to flag down the bartender when the guy standing next to him coughs loud enough for the whole damn bar to hear him. Richie slides away from him as much as he can without losing his spot at the bar. He raises him arm to flag down the bartender again and again the guy coughs. Annoyed now, Richie turns to look at the guy and is struck but just how breathtaking he is. He’s got the biggest damn doe eyes Richie’s ever seen and his brows are all furrowed like he’s mad and- oh shit, he’s mad.

“Uh, what’s up?” Richie nearly shouts, trying to be heard over the live band, the crowd, and the general atmosphere. The guy hears him and leans in closer with the sternest expression Richie’s seen outside of a Catholic school.

“It’s rude to flag the bartender down!” The guy yells, his hand chopping the air as he speaks, like it personally offended him by just being there. “They know who came in when and they’ll get to you when they can. Y-You can’t just _wave_ at them! That’s like snapping your fingers for a waiter and that shit’s disgustingly insulting!” The guy looks like he’s about to combust, his face as red as a stop sign but Richie never took his driver’s test so he forges ahead.

“I just want a drink, man, don’t get your panties in a knot.” Richie turns back around and finds himself face-to-face with the bartender who’s looking a little smug. Richie sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as he orders two drinks for himself. The bartender is about to leave when he stops him. “Hey, get him one of whatever he wants, on me.” The bartender rolls his eyes but goes to take the guy’s, known as Hot Guy in Richie’s mind, order. After ordering, Hot Guy turns to smile at Richie, a genuine non-condescending smile and wow, Richie is fucked. The guy has _dimples_! Previously unknown to him, Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier, comedian extraordinaire and newly out gay man is weak for dimples.

“I’m Richie,” he offers, reaching his hand out in greeting, hoping to put behind their little spat from earlier. “Sorry about being a dick to food service workers.”

Hot Guy laughs, dimples staying put like they fucking own that little piece of real estate on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie, it’s nice to see you’re not a real dick.” Richie huffs out a laugh at that, trying his best to refrain from his usual choice of jokes. Trying yet failing.

“Your mom sure enjoyed my ‘real dick’ last night!” An array of emotions flicks across Eddie’s face; shock, anger, disgust, and then, finally, pure amusement. They both laugh and lean closer together as the bar gets more crowded. Richie’s about to ask if he’s here alone but the bartender’s back and he’s stuck trying to wriggle his wallet out of his jeans. He pulls out a twenty, hands it to the bartender and tells him to keep the change. Both drinks in hand, Richie nods toward a surprisingly empty table near the wall. Eddie glances over at it before looking back up at Richie and smiling. _Let’s go_ , Eddie mouths and Richie spends a bit too long staring at the man’s lips before lifting his drinks above his head and leading the way to the table.

At the table they can talk a bit easier since the crowd is moving toward the bar and the dance floor rather than sticking around the walls. The two talk for what seems like hours but is really probably only one hour. Eddie’s clearly already drunk and Richie is more than well on his way, judging by the fact that he downed both of his drinks five minutes into the conversation and ordered about three more between the two of them immediately after. The _conversation_. Richie is drunk but even sober him would have to agree that Eddie is probably the first person, aside from Stan, who’s been able to keep up with his joking and banter. Eddie even gets off a few good ones every so often and Richie is eating it up. One time Eddie makes a joke about Richie’s forehead and the comedian snorts so hard that he falls off of his chair.

They’re hitting it off really well and Eddie’s already made a few references that Richie hopes means he’s gay. Like, what straight man owns and _wears_ Gucci loafers? None of Richie’s straight rich friends. So he takes a chance and asks for his number.

“Hey, Eds, you know what? We should get together sometime that we’re not both plastered.” Richie slurs, his chin resting on his hand and an expression on his face that he hopes is alluring and not fucking creepy. Judging by Eddie’s grin and the fact that he’s sliding his unlocked phone over to Richie across the table, he’ll settle on alluring. They exchange numbers and Richie finally gets up the courage to flirt more than his usual jokes. He starts out slow, not wanting to scare him away and when Eddie responds positively, he starts laying it on thick.

“Eddie, baby, you’ve got like the biggest fucking doe eyes.” Eddie blushes at that, his mouth spreading into a smile, bringing out his dimples. “And god, those dimples! You’re fucking gorgeous, man, you know that?” Richie’s leaning as he can to Eddie as he can without toppling over and it looks like the other man is leaning close as well. He takes this as a good sign. He also takes Eddie’s hand on his thigh as a good sign.

Eddie’s biting his lip and it’s like he wants to say something but he doesn’t know how. Richie’s about to intervene, save the guy from internal combustion, when he finally speaks. “Y-You’re not half-bad yourself.” Eddie looks so nervous as he says this that Richie doesn’t even laugh like he normally would. He simply squeezes Eddie’s hand where it lays on his thigh and smiles.

They continue like this for a while and Richie starts thinking about what it would feel like to dance with Eddie, have that tight little ass grinding against him in the middle of a sweaty, gross crowd. Right as Richie’s about to ask Eddie if he wants to head to the dancefloor, some girl comes up to their table.

“Eddie!” She squeals, clearly more drunk than the two of them. She’s leaning on Eddie, her arms wrapped around his, her head resting on his shoulder. “We should… go home?” A puzzled look on her face, she looks between Eddie and Richie before restating her question as a statement. Eddie sighs, looking disappointed but he kisses her cheek and stands up. Richie is gaping at the two of them before shaking his head, trying to not let them see just how hurt he is. _Guess straight guys do wear Gucci loafers_ , he thinks. The thought that Eddie could be bi or pan crosses his mind but it’s quickly replaced by the sight of the girl, whose name is Bev apparently, wrapping her arms around Eddie’s neck and looking lovingly into his eyes. He’s about to throw himself a pity party, the only attendees being himself and a bottle of Cruzan from the nearby liquor store but Eddie taps him on the shoulder before he can plan his escape.

“Hey, Rich,” Eddie drawls, his voice still slurred from the alcohol but there’s a hint of care in there and Richie wants to crawl into a hole and hibernate for the rest of the year. “We’re gonna get a cab, wanna share?”

Not only does the guy have a girlfriend but they 1. live together and 2. want to share a cab with him which means he’ll probably be subject to a ridiculous amount of PDA. Richie grins painfully as he accepts the offer because he’ll be damned if he gets stuck having to walk home or worse, use Uber or Lyft. Those drivers almost always ask him for autographs but cabbies don’t give a shit unless you’re yakking in the back.

The three of them make their way out to the sidewalk and Richie takes a deep breath of fresh, city air. Bev is still hanging onto Eddie and Richie’s heart wilts a little with each giggle he hears coming from the two of them. He should have known better than to get attached so quickly but they had hit it off so well and he thought that Eddie really was interested. At least they could be friends? Maybe? The thought isn’t so bad; Richie’s pined after friends before and he resigns himself to pining over Eddie for the rest of their friendship, however long that’s going to be. He’s nearly convinced himself that it wouldn’t be too bad when Eddie lights up a cigarette, looking fucking sinful as it sits between his lips. Eddie notices Richie watching him and he smirks flirtatiously. He holds up his pack toward Richie, offering him a smoke, and he’s about to accept when Bev plucks the cig right out of Eddie’s mouth and takes a long drag. Richie’s suffering from the most severe case of emotional whiplash he’s ever had because he had actually thought that Eddie was flirting with him while his girlfriend was right next to him. He knows he’s not bad looking but he is not ‘make a guy think about cheating on his girlfriend so blatantly while she’s _right there_ ’ levels of attractiveness. He’s so caught up in his guilt that he doesn’t notice that Bev has successfully called a cab and they’re all waiting for him to get in.

“Richie, you coming?” Eddie calls out, leaning out of the cab to smile at him. Richie, already head over heels for that damn smile, nods numbly as he climbs into the cab. Eddie’s sitting in the middle seat which means that their thighs are touching, their shoulders are touching, and Richie could so easily rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder but he doesn’t have the right to do that, not when Bev exists. A new wave of guilt crashes over Richie as he berates himself internally for even thinking about doing anything remotely flirtatious with Eddie. His legs are bouncing, whether it’s from his ADHD or his anxiety or just being this close to Eddie, and he’s about to lie and tell the cabbie that this is his place when Eddie places a hand on his knee.

“You good?” Eddie’s voice is so soothing and Richie hates how much he wants to listen to that voice in his ear telling him how _good_ he is, how good he _looks_. All he can do is smile tightly and nod, eyes purposely skimming over Bev where she lay on Eddie’s shoulder. He can do this, it’s not that hard, he might never see Eddie again, no biggie. Soon, the cab is pulling to the side of the road and Richie is getting out. He turns around to say goodbye when Eddie grabs his arm and tugs him close, their noses nearly touching. Richie holds his breath as he tries desperately to not look at Eddie’s lips but _oh fuck, he’s licking his lips, I can’t handle this_.

“Goodnight, Richie.” It takes all of Richie self-control and hatred of cheaters to keep himself from surging forward and kissing Eddie. Somehow he controls himself, chuckling awkwardly as he walks backward toward his apartment and waving as the cab pulls away. As soon as the cab is out of sight, he drops to the ground. He debates texting Stan or Bill to see if they could come over, keep him from drinking himself into oblivion but it’s so late, he doesn’t want to wake them up. Instead, he just climbs the stairs and heads into his apartment building.

Richie’s always hated climbing the 4 flights of stairs that lead to his apartment but he hates the rickety old elevator more, especially this late. So, despite dragging his feet, he heads to the stairs and starts climbing up. He focuses on the earlier parts of his day, the parts without Eddie in them, as he climbs. When he runs out of things to focus on, he focuses on the nasty, graffitied steps in front of him. Soon, he finds himself in his one bed-one bath apartment. It’s not terrible, especially for the price and location. He locks the door behind him before slowly making his way to his bedroom, kicking off his shoes and tossing his keys, wallet, jacket, and whatever else he has in his hands onto the floor. He lays in his bed, not bothering to get undressed. His vision is swimming a bit and he doesn’t know whether it’s from the alcohol or overflow of emotions in his brain. He pulls up the contacts app in his phone and sees that Eddie put himself in as ‘Eds’ with two of those weird pulsing heart emojis on either side of it. Jesus fuck, this guy is bold. His heart aches at the thought of what would have happened if Bev hadn’t been there. Fuck, he might have broken his ‘no sex before the third date’ rule that he literally just enacted. There’s just something about Eddie that Richie finds himself so attracted to. He’s hot, sure, but his personality? It’s fucking great. He has such weird interests; not weird in a bad way but weird in a way that Richie would not have pegged him for a car guy, no matter how many tattoos the guy has. He’s also a great listener; he’d have to be to put up with Richie droning on and on about the fucking X-Files or some shit.

Thinking about Eddie has done more harm than good and now Richie’s focusing on the fact that Bev is the one who he went home with, who he most likely lives with, who he’s probably fucking right now. Richie groans as his mind starts to fill in the blanks of what might be happening. He can see Bev touching Eddie’s chest, his toned chest that Richie definitely stared at for longer than is probably appropriate. She’s dragging her nails down him, leaving red marks in his skin, shirt discarded somewhere in the room. His mind cuts to Eddie, Bev wrapped in his arms, as he slowly unzips her dress. The next scene his stupid, stupid brain supplies is the two of them tangled together under the sheets of their bed, Eddie’s hair tousled from where Bev’s fingers are gripping it. Eddie’s leaning down to kiss her when Richie slaps a hand across his eyes, interrupting the scene. Yeah, he’s jealous and a little hurt, that doesn’t give him the right to imagine Eddie in any way, especially not in this way. He sits up, stomach suddenly lurching and he knows that he had too much to drink and not enough to eat. He makes it to the toilet before he starts puking. After a few minutes stuck in front of the toilet, Richie falls asleep on the cold linoleum of his bathroom, head resting on a pile of dirty laundry that he’s been meaning to take to the laundromat for a week.

The light shining through his tiny bathroom wakes Richie up. His head is pounding as if every cell decided to take up square dancing as their new hobby. Groaning, he pushes himself upright and checks his phone. It’s almost 11 and he’s got texts from at least five different people but the only notification that has his attention is the one from Eddie.

- _It was great meeting you last night. Would you want to get coffee sometime today?-_

He wipes his hand down his face. God, he remembers everything. He remembers how fucking hot Eddie is; how his voice sounds when it’s loud, trying to be heard over the crowd, how it sounds when he’s nose-to-nose with him and he’s saying goodbye in such a low tone that Richie nearly dropped to his knees right there in the street. He remembers how well they got along, how their conversation never seemed to slow down or stall. Most of all, he remembers Bev. He remembers how she draped herself across Eddie like a cat lounging on an armrest. He remembers how they shared a cigarette, practically all over each other each time they traded off. He should ignore the text, pretend like last night never happened, like he didn’t get immediately attached to someone he just met. Instead, Richie’s self-sabotaging nature kicks in and he finds himself texting Eddie back.

_-Sure. 1pm at Maturin’s?-_

Maybe Eddie and Bev are into, like, threesomes or something and this is something they regularly do? Richie’s not into women so it’s not even an idea he’d entertain, even though he can objectively see that Bev is hot. Either way, Richie is willing to make new friends, even if it’ll hurt him in the long run, so he pulls himself off of the floor and into his room. He debates on dressing nicely for this not-a-date date but he settles on an eye-straining Hawaiian shirt with little cartoon hot dogs and hamburgers on it, a plain grey t-shirt, and old but decently in shape jeans. Nearly the exact thing he wore last night so at least Eddie will think he’s consistent. Not that he wants Eddie to think anything about him, the guy has a girlfriend. It’s just hard for Richie to remember that when he also remembers the way it felt to have the guy’s hand squeezing his thigh in a crowded bar.

After a couple hours of anxiously flitting about his apartment, trying to find the right shoes and desperately trying to ignore the ache in his chest whenever he thinks about Eddie, Richie finds himself walking into Maturin’s, a coffee shop that his friends Stan and Patty own and run. He chose this place for their not-a-date because he knew Stan would be working and Stan always is his voice of reason. He texted Stan about last night and told him how hurt he is but he always wants to genuinely be friends with this guy. Stan chewed Richie out a bit for assuming that the Bev was Eddie’s girlfriend but Richie just chalks that up to the fact that Stan did not see how attached at the hip they were. Hell, they were practically Siamese twins once Bev came over. Now that he’s at the shop, he tries to put that all behind him. He’s here to make a friend.

He meant to get there early but apparently so did Eddie because he’s sitting at a table in the corner where Richie usually sits. Either Eddie has extreme luck or Stan told Eddie to sit there. It’s most likely the latter judging by the look Stan gives him as he hands him his usual and what looks to be a plain, black coffee. As he heads over to the table, he gives Eddie an incredulous look.

“Who the hell drinks black coffee?” He says as soon as he sits down, sliding the coffee over to Eddie, whose face scrunches up at the sight of Richie’s heavily sweetened cold brew.

“Who the hell drinks creamer with a splash of coffee?” Eddie snaps back. He sits back and drops his head. “Sorry, I’m just a little nervous.” Richie laughs a little even though he’s confused as to why Eddie would be nervous. He’s got a girlfriend so this isn’t a date, it’s just two guys being dudes getting coffee. Eddie reaches a hand across the table and bumps the tips of his fingers against Richie’s, close enough to hold his hand. “I really enjoyed last night. I haven’t gone out for a long time and I’m glad I did.”

Richie’s eyes are wide and he pulls his hand off the table to run it through his hair, ignoring the hurt he can see in Eddie’s eyes. This guy really is trying to get with him, despite dating Bev. “It was fun! It’s always nice to make new friends.” He forces a smile and tries to act the least gay as possible. Maybe if he shuts him down before anything close to flirting happens, he’ll get the idea. Eddie sits back in his chair abruptly when Richie says ‘friends’. A fake smile is plastered on his face as well and Richie thinks, _Okay, he got the message. I am_ not _interested in being his side dude._

However, it seems that Eddie did not get the message. Either that or he’s deliberately ignoring it because the next thing he knows, Richie’s being subjected to puppy eyes. Eddie’s chin is resting on his hand as he leans forward, eyes wide and innocent. Richie sits back and swallows hard. God, it’s hard to look into his eyes without wanting to drown himself in them. He tries to think of a topic that would kill Eddie’s flirtatious mood but his brain is fried from how hot Eddie is, how good he looks in that pale-blue button-up, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is:

“Bev!”

Eddie sits back again, eyebrows raised. “What about Bev?”

“She’s your girlfriend! H-How can you sit there flirting with me when y-you’re dating Bev!” Richie blurts out breathlessly. “I mean, I’m into you but I’m not gonna be a homewrecker, dude!”

Eddie starts laughing, a deep gut-busting laugh. Stan looks over to them and raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. No one else is in the shop so he’s not worried about the noise. Richie’s just sitting there, mouth gaping open as he tries to figure out what’s so funny.

“Don’t just laugh, you asshole!” He slams his hand down on the table, nearly toppling over his and Eddie’s cups. This makes Eddie stop. “I-I really thought we hit it off and then Bev shows up and I felt like such an idiot. I feel like an even bigger one coming here today because you’re laughing at me and I should have just stayed home last night!”

“What the fuck, Richie?” Eddie’s voice is stern, his face set in the most serious expression Richie’s ever seen on anyone, except for maybe his parents when he crashed their new Volvo. “Is this why you’ve been skittish today? Why you’ve been distant? We did hit it off last night!”

“So what?” Richie snaps. He’s about ten seconds away from storming out of the shop when Eddie grabs his hand. The feeling of his hand in Eddie’s grounds him a little and makes him stop. “What are you-“

Eddie grips his hand and leans forward. If he was wearing a tie, it’d be falling into his coffee right now. “I’m not dating Bev, you dick. She’s my roommate.” Richie’s jaw drops comically and he scrambles to form a coherent thought.

“B-But she was all over you!”

“She was drunk and we’re close.” Eddie says with a shrug.

“You guys were practically kissing each time you traded that cigarette last night!” Richie stammers out, his brain searching for every excuse he can use to justify his thoughts.

“I was staring at your ass every chance I could get!” Eddie’s getting upset now and they’re both standing, nose-to-nose almost exactly like last night and Richie still wants to kiss him but he’s so confused still.

“Oh, sure, like someone as hot as you would really be interested in someone like me.” Richie finally understands why he was so quick to assume Bev was Eddie’s girlfriend. Yeah, he knows he’s not ugly but he’s also not anywhere near Eddie’s league. The guy could get anyone to drop to their knees with just a look whereas Richie has to resort to quick and dirty hook-ups in dimly lit bar bathrooms.

Eddie shoves a finger in Richie’s chest and the shock of it pushes Richie back a step. “Don’t you dare tell me who I can and cannot be into.” He starts laughing but it’s dark and Richie’s just a little bit turned on at the fire in Eddie’s eyes. “You are ridiculously hot, dude. It’s infuriating! Your arms are so fucking thick a-and your damn jawline! Every time I look at you I’m like two seconds away from jumping your bones in the middle of a goddamn coffee shop!”

“Kiss or get out.”

A voice from behind the counter interrupts their arguing and Richie turns around to see Stan standing there, arms crossed, looking more than a bit peeved. “Stan! Uh, shit, sorry?”

“It’s 20-fucking-20, Richie, I should not have to deal with this BS.” Stan rolls his eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “You both are clearly into each other so get over yourselves and just talk about what you want!”

Eddie and Richie look at each other and then back to Stan who’s still standing there in his apron and visor. They both sigh and sit down again, ignoring Stan’s self-satisfied huff. They sit there quietly for a moment as each tries to think of what to say. Richie decides that, since this whole thing was his fault, he should speak first.

“Maybe we should start over?” He adjusts his glasses nervously as Eddie just stares at him. “Uh, well, I’m Richie and I’d really like to take you on a date sometime.”

A smile breaks through Eddie’s stern expression and Richie finds himself getting lost in his dimples again. He takes Richie’s hand, tangling their fingers together. “I’m Eddie and I’d really like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [tumblr](https://eddiekraspbak.tumblr.com) and [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/hanthelibrarian)!


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